


Think About It

by RussianWitch



Series: Kinktober2018 [16]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fisting, Implied/Referenced Sex, Introspection, Kinktober 2018, M/M, Talking, nothing actually happens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-19
Updated: 2018-10-19
Packaged: 2019-08-04 09:21:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16344125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RussianWitch/pseuds/RussianWitch
Summary: Day 8





	Think About It

"Come again?" James asks, half expecting a joke about going deaf instead of an actual repeat of Q's request. 

He looks down at his hands: a thug's hands, a killer's hands, big and rough, scarred and blunt-fingered. His hands are made to wreak havoc, not to caress. 

When he allows himself to care, James worries about putting his hands on Q, of breaking him in some way, damaging his lover in some way. 

"I want your hand," Q says rubbing James' swollen knuckles with his thumb, "up my arse." He tangles their fingers together pulling James closer until they are practically wrapped around each other. 

"Why?" He can't resist asking. Sex in all its different permutations is not an unknown, he's encountered all kinds of acts in the periphery of his awareness over the years, the requested act among them, but he'd never given it more than a fleeting thought while turning away.  

"Because I know I'll enjoy it?" Q tells him with faint amusement. 

"You can't tell me it doesn't hurt!" He's no stranger to hurting his—associates, the people he sleeps with on the job can hardly be called lovers or even partners. 

"Maybe a little, it is quite a stretch," Q tells James' hand as he brings it up to kiss the knuckles one by one, "it never hurts for long. I'm not asking for your benefit, you know." He finishes, looking up sharply.  

They've had a rough couple of months with unexpected activity in the Caucasus, James had barely been home, and Q spent weeks at Q branch not even bothering to go home. 

"I need to—be taken out of my head, I suppose," Q sighs, "I can't stop thinking, and I  _need_  to."  

James is tempted to point out that regular sex will accomplish Q's goal just fine, but holds his tongue, lets the new information settle in his mind. 

"I love your hands on me," Q says, distracting James from his thoughts, "big and capable, giving me exactly what I need. You always know how to touch me..." He trails off nuzzling James' throat, "I like the idea of feeling you for days after, of knowing you've been that deep inside me." He nips and licks at the side of James' throat up to his jaw, turning to kneel over James' lap. "Don't you want that too?" He whispers against the corner of James' mouth a devilish glint in his eyes. 

There is only one way to respond for the moment. 

James cups Q's ass, squeezing roughly, as he pulls him close, sliding off the couch onto his knees as he swallows the younger man's squawk of surprised.  

"Not right this minute," he growls sinking his teeth in the slender throat just to listen to Q's gasp of delight.


End file.
